Nightmare
by Billyette-Bobilina-Josephine
Summary: Oneshot. Shinon thinks he has a nightmare, but sadly, he only faces reality. Can't think of a better title or summary. Basically a crackfic. ShinonXRhys for no reason other then just because. Yaoi, suggestive themes.


This is a crackfic. Shinon and Rhys, just because I can. Last part feels weak, but meh. I didn't really want to make it any longer.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fire Emblem or anything like that.

**Warnings:** This story contains yaoi. Gay people in a relationship. Oh noes! If you don't like it, don't read it. This story also contains some suggestive themes, but I didn't think it was enough to give it an M rating. Still, procede with caution.

Nightmare

There was a howl of rage. A certain bow-wielding redhead turned on the spot and lifted his weapon just a second too late.

Curses escaped his lips as the sword ran through his stomach. Unimaginable pain leaked through his body as the blade twisted inside of him. He gasped and clutched at the wound as the man wretched his sword out and raised it above his head. The villain gave a massive battle cry, preparing to behead his foe.

Suddenly, said man was skewered on the end of a lance. A brute of a man clad in blue armour took the place of the man. He bent down on one knee. "It's all right," he said comfortingly. "We're going to get you out of here. You're going to be fine."

The man with the red hair found himself unable to speak as the large man lifted him up. Blood is running from his mouth. It's all he can taste. He knows he's dying.

"Unnghff . . . ," he groaned in pain. The world around him was spinning. Everything was going black . . . .

Vaguely he heard as high voice call out in panic, "Shinon! No!"

And more mature voice yelled out, "No! Rolf! Watch out!"

The first voice unleashed a horrific cry of pure pain.

Maybe, if he closed his eyes, the pain would evaporate.

Rolf's screams of utter agony were the last thing Shinon heard before the world disappeared.

~ ***** ~

Shinon awoke with a start. His entire body was shaking and covered in sweat. If he'd been wearing a shirt, it would have been soaked right through. He was panting heavily.

Oh, thank Ashera. It had all been a dream. Nothing more then a horrible dream. A nightmare. He sighed resignedly, and rested on his elbows. Thank the Goddess. He was alright. Rolf was alright. None of that had ever happened.

Light spilled into the room as someone entered. Shinon shielded his eyes with his hand bitterly. "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep here!"

"Oh, Shinon," said a weak voice. "You're awake! Oh, it's a miracle from the Goddess!"

Shinon shut his eyes, even though it was dark once more. He didn't need to see in order to recognize the owner of that whiny, pathetic voice. "Yes, I'm awake. And I'm trying to sleep. So get out of here, Rhys."

There was hesitation. After a moment, Rhys said, "You've been unconscious for three days. You have to stay awake now, or else you might never wake up."

Shinon glared suspiciously at the small, sickly man. "What are you talking about?"

"I . . . Shinon, you've lost a lot of blood. You've had a fever and you've been out cold for three days! Just . . . just don't go back to sleep, alright? You need to stay awake. You're missed in the camp."

Lost a lot of blood? But . . . no. It was just a dream. A nightmare. Nothing more. Shinon closed his eyes again and swallowed. "But . . . that . . . couldn't be."

Luckily for Rhys, Shinon could not see the bright red hue that the priest's cheeks were becoming. "I-I know it's a bit hard to swallow," he replied shakily, "but it's true. We've been very worried about you the entire time. We though you might . . . pass on while you rested. But you're alive, right now. And we need you to stay awake. Please, Shinon."

Shinon forced himself to stop trembling. "So," he said slowly, "three days ago . . . there was a fight . . . ."

"Somebody stabbed you," Rhys whispered. "It had everyone scared. We thought we'd lost you at first. You lost so much blood . . . you were so pale . . . your eyes were unseeing, and our words of comfort fell upon deaf ears. We thought you wouldn't make it."

". . . But you're here. You've healed me, and now I'm better. That's your job. Right?"

Shinon's words were cold and uncaring. Rhys nodded quietly. "Yes. It is my job. But it doesn't change the fact that you lost tons of blood. We'd almost thought we'd lost both of—"

"Both of what?" snapped Shinon, his patience worn.

But Rhys wouldn't say another word.

"Both of _what_, Rhys?"

Then, in the dark, Shinon made out the sound of Rhys' soft sobs of horror and helplessness. "I-I'm so s-sorry, Sh-Shinon," wept the younger man. "Y-You don't need to s-see me l-like this. You d-don't c-care. I-I'll g-go."

He turned to leave. Some sort of caring abruptly overwhelmed Shinon. Maybe it was because he hated seeing Rolf cry so much, and now he couldn't stand to see Rhys cry, either. "No, wait, Rhys. Don't go. I . . . I'm sorry for being a jerk to you. All you've done is help me and I've spat in your face. I . . . I shouldn't have. I should be more grateful to you. You saved my life. I . . . thank you."

Rhys sniffed, and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

Mildly disgusted, but still, for some reason, wanting to help, Shinon offered, "Come over here, Rhys. Come sit on my bed. Tell me about what's troubling you."

Rhys obliged, crumpling against Shinon dejectedly.

The redhead sat up again and wrapped his arms around the priest's shoulders. He pressed his nose against Rhys' light hair. "It's okay," he whispered to the younger man. "Just talk. Talking will make you feel better." Or so Shinon thought—he'd never really comforted anyone older then fifteen before.

Rhys burst into tears again and pressed his face into Shinon's shoulder. He bawled despondently until he was nearly out of tears.

"What's the problem?" questioned Shinon. "Just tell me. If not to make you feel better, then at least to quench my curiosity."

Rhys hugged the sniper, clinging to him as if all hope was lost. Shinon couldn't help but roll his eyes. He thought this private conversation between the two of them couldn't have gotten any more awkward, but, lo and behold, it had. Rhys sniffled and mumbled, "I . . . I could hardly make it to you. You were so far away . . . and everyone was calling for me to help you. But when I got to you, everyone needed me to go and help Rolf . . . but I had to take care of you first. But when I did . . . when I went to help R-Rolf . . . ."

Shinon, not knowing what else to do—having never really comforted anyone before—pulled Rhys closer to his body. "Rhys, just don't tear up again. It's really embarrassing."

In a strained voice, Rhys murmured, "He's dead."

" . . . Sorry?"

"He's dead!" Rhys croaked in agony. "Rolf is dead because I couldn't help him! It was either him or you—" Rhys gasped, choking on his words. He coughed, his chest heaving with effort.

Shinon's grip on the priest tightened unknowingly. "And you chose . . . me . . . ."

Rhys nodded against the older man's shoulder. Shinon forced himself not to cry as well, although it was difficult not to—Rolf, the kid who followed him around, was dead and gone. The kid who worshipped him like a hero. Like he was the best guy in the world. The only person that cared about him.

Dead.

~ ***** ~

Rhys was searching the kitchen for some teabags and honey, to help his sore throat. However, his search was cut short when he heard a loud clatter and a crash. He immediately went to the source of the noise.

He found Shinon grasping a stool, attempting to pull himself to his feet. His voice weak from his throat infection, Rhys whispered, "Are you alright?"

Once standing, Shinon turned stupidly to face the priest. He snorted. "Oh. It's you." His words slurred together.

Rhys decided not to take offense to that statement. "Shinon . . . are you . . . drunk?" It wasn't like it was a new concept. Shinon drank plenty. It just seemed odd that he would have drunk himself into the middle of the night, and only now be stumbling to his room. He usually called it quits before now.

"Me? Drunk? No. Well . . . maybe. A bit. But you know who isn't drunk?"

To humour the inebriated man, Rhys asked hoarsely, "Who?"

The redhead embraced Rhys in a tight hug. Then he leaned his head in and kissed Rhys on the ear. The priest felt the heat burning in his cheeks. Then, as though it were a secret, Shinon murmured in the younger man's ear, "Rolf."

Rhys' mind went blank. "What?"

Shinon pulled a away just a fraction so he could look Rhys in the eyes. He ran a hand through the other man's short orange hair and said seriously, "Rolf isn't drinking. You know why? 'Cause he's dead. Dead and gone and never coming back."

Guilt welled up inside of Rhys. A strange chill pierced his body. "I know," he rasped.

Shinon's tone was colder then ice as he questioned, "And do you know whose fault that is?"

Tears welled up in the younger man's eyes. Did he have to rub it in? "Shinon, please . . . I feel bad enough as it is. I didn't want to have to choose . . . ." He tried to push away from the sniper, but was far too weak.

Shinon gripped Rhys' shoulders painfully. "That's right," he said, not hearing a word of what Rhys had said. "It's my fault."

This was news to Rhys. "What?" he muttered in confusion. "Your fault? How?"

The pair of green eyes in front of him glassed over. "It's my fault! I killed him. I killed him because I made him go out onto the battlefield. I should've never taught him how to use a bow. If I'd never taught him, he would have stayed home and been safe. But because I did, he died. I killed Rolf! I'm such a h-horrible person!"

And with that, Shinon became a sobbing mess on Rhys' shoulder.

Rhys, not knowing what else to do, eased the older man down onto a chair. He then made to leave and fetch Gatrie, who would probably be better at comforting his friend then Rhys would be.

Shinon, however, had other plans. He pulled the priest by the sleeve until Rhys had no choice but to sit on his lap. The sniper's arms then wrapped around the small shoulders before him. Confused, Rhys likewise hugged the redhead encouragingly.

Shinon wept on Rhys' shoulder until he could weep no more. Then he just whimpered, hating himself.

Rhys patted the older man on the back. "Nobody knew this would happen," he whispered weakly. "It's not your fault. You can't see the future."

"I don't have anybody else!" Shinon mumbled in anguish. "Nobody else cares for me. Gatrie would sell me out if a cute woman walked by. My parents are dead. I have no other family. I have no one to turn to! Rolf was my only friend . . . my only real friend. Everyone else hates me."

Rhys massaged Shinon's shoulders soothingly. "Don't listen to yourself, Shinon," he said with a scratchy voice. "You don't know what you're saying. Rolf wasn't the only guy that cared about you. I happen to know someone else who cares for you very much."

Shinon looked the small man in the eye blearily. "Really?" he scoffed. "Who, then?"

Heat rushed to Rhys' face once more. He told himself mentally to get over it—intoxicated people never remembered anything when they were in such a state. Hesitantly he murmured, "Well . . . I do. I care about you very much. I couldn't stand to see you hurt like that. I . . . I think I might love you."

Shinon stared at him blankly for a good minute. The he simply leaned forward a bit and pressed his lips against Rhys'.

As could be expected, Rhys was shocked. The taste of liquor and, for some reason, olives, lingered on his lips long after Shinon had stopped kissing him. All he could muster to say was, "Sh-Shinon . . . why?"

"Why what? Why love a person that loves you? Why not?"

He leaned in for another kiss. Rhys backed away a little and gasped. "No!" he croaked. "You can't kiss me!"

Shinon frowned. His arched eyebrows slanted towards his nose in bewilderment. "Why not?" he repeated.

"I'm sick. You'll get sick too."

Shinon laughed. "You're always sick! And besides, what's a little sickness compared to being completely alone? Unloved?" He gestured broadly with his arms. "Love me."

Rhys couldn't hold back a grin. He needed no further encouragement to sit back on Shinon's lap, wrap his arms around the older man's neck, and plant a kiss on those olive-flavoured lips of his.

Shinon groaned in bliss and flicked his tongue against the priest's soft lips. Startled, and doing a lot of things he'd never done before, Rhys opened his mouth and allowed Shinon to enter it with his tongue.

Never had Shinon tasted anything so . . . weird. Rhys tasted like a mix of vanilla, oranges, and puke.

When Rhys felt a cough coming on, he pulled away and hacked loudly into his hands. As soon as he was finished, Shinon, smirking, pushed Rhys onto the floor. He was shortly straddled overtop of the younger man, a leg pressing against each of the priest's hips. Trailing a hand down the white robe of the other man, Shinon leaned in for another kiss.

This kiss lasted until both of them were panting. Shinon, urged on by booze and feeling horny, ripped off the younger man's robes to reveal his pasty white body. Rhys blushed furiously as the sniper's fingers drew lower and lower, tracing his torso down the middle.

It was only moments later that Shinon laughed. "Love me that much, do you?" he teased.

"Shinon . . . ." Rhys gasped as the sniper brushed him gently. "I-I love you, Shinon. I . . . ."

Shinon shushed him. "Quiet, now. I wanna have some fun with this."

Rhys was not looking forward to the prospect of "fun", but he remained silent.

Shinon was grinning madly as he pulled off his own clothes. Rhys couldn't help but stare at the older man's toned body. Wistfully he thought about what it would be like to have such a beautiful body, but he quickly dismissed the idea. It seemed ridiculous.

Shinon crawled overtop of the healer and began placing kissed on every part of the man's body he could. Rhys gasped at the sniper's playful touch as he felt sensations in places he'd never considered to be sensational.

"Sh-Shinon," he wheezed. "I-I . . . this is my first time . . . ah . . . ."

Shinon stroked the younger man soothingly. "It's alright, Rhys," he mumbled. "Everyone's gotta have their first time some time."

It only went uphill from there.

~ ***** ~

The very next morning, Mist ran ahead of Oscar, anxious for her next cooking lesson. She dashed into the kitchen and stopped.

In front of her lay two men—Shinon and Rhys. Their limbs were tangled up in a mess of men. A second later, Mist released a blood-curdling scream of horror.

It was enough to wake the two sleeping men. Actually, it was enough to awaken the rest of the Greil Mercenaries as Oscar pulled her away from the naked men.

Needless to say, Ike was furious.

It ended with Rhys swearing between coughs that they were never going to sleep together in any public place ever again. Shinon, meanwhile, ignored Ike and pulled Rhys into the nearest bedroom.

That bedroom just so happened to be Mist's.

Mist was traumatized for the rest of her life.


End file.
